


Obligations

by Linda R (HowNovel)



Category: Starman (TV)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 1991-10-26
Updated: 1991-10-26
Packaged: 2017-10-25 18:02:44
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,611
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/273182
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HowNovel/pseuds/Linda%20R
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Much to Scott's dismay, after Paul witnesses a shooting he insists on doing the right thing and stays to try to help the police identify the perpetrator.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Obligations

OBLIGATIONS  
by Linda R  
October 1991

 

"Hey, Dad, here's the shave cream, and we're all done." Scott grinned at his father as the extra large can made a clean arc into the basket Paul was holding. The boy hadn't stopped smiling since that afternoon when Liz had called with word of a possible sighting of Jenny Hayden. In little more than an hour their bus would be leaving for the latest, and hopefully last, part of the search for Scott's mother. "I'll meet you at the register. I've got to pick up one more thing," he called over his shoulder as he abruptly turned and made a beeline for the perfume counter.

Paul chuckled. It was amazing how quickly the shave cream had started disappearing ever since their landlady had mentioned the darkening peach fuzz on Scott's cheeks. Paul checked the shopping list one more time before starting over to the checkout counter. It was almost closing time, and there were only a few people left in the store. One man stood talking to the cashier.

As the Starman rounded the corner display a scream from the counter area, followed by a gunshot, shattered the store's quiet. Paul looked over in time to see the man reach into the open register drawer before turning to make his get-away down a deserted aisle toward the emergency exit. Alarms sounded as the door crashed open.

Checking quickly to make sure Scott was out of harm's way Paul dropped the basket and ran to the injured cashier. The young woman lay on the floor, blood spreading from a wound to her chest. He knelt by her side and put his hand near the wound.

"Out of the way, buddy. I'm a paramedic," a male voice commanded as he pushed Paul aside.

A crowd seemed to appear out of nowhere, Scott somewhere in the middle as he tried to get to his father. A security guard, forcing his way through, tried to break up the group of curious onlookers.

"Stand back, folks. Give the man some working room. The police and ambulance should be on their way. I don't want any of you to leave until you've given your statement to the officers."

Grabbing his father's arm, Scott whispered, "Dad, we've got to get out of here. The police'll be here any minute."

“We can't, Scott. I saw the man who did this. I've got to tell them what I know. Besides, how long can it take?" Paul tried to reassure his nervous son. "We'll be on the bus long before Fox could ever hear of this."

As the ambulance screamed away, the police started questioning everyone who'd been in the store when the shooting happened. Paul was the last person on the list the security guard had made up for the police.

“Mr. Forrester, is it? I'm Detective Ramirez. I understand you were the only person in the front of the store when the alleged shooting occurred.”

"Alleged shooting?" Paul's eyebrow rose in surprise. "A woman's been seriously hurt."

"Alleged until we get a conviction," was the curt reply. "You're not from around here, are you? Now, what exactly did you see or hear? Is there any chance you saw the perpetrator's face?"

Paul told the officer what he knew about the shooting, including the fact he'd seen the 'alleged' gunman's face when he'd turned away from the counter.

"Now we're getting somewhere!" This last bit of information made the detective smile. “Mr. Forrester, would you be willing to come down to headquarters? I'd like to have an artist sketch the face you saw before your memory fades." This last request sounded more like an official command.

"Dad," Scott warned softly. "The police station? No way!"

Paul agreed with his son's concern, but knew what he had to do. ''Scott, it's all right. They need me to help them find the man who did this. I'm the only one who saw his face. It's my duty."  
  
---  
  
Paul checked the sketch the police artist was making. "No, his eyes were different, strange somehow." He chewed his lip as he tried to find a way to describe the man more accurately. "They didn't seem to be seeing me, even when he looked straight at me."

The artist reworked his sketch. "Probably stoned on something. How's this?"

Paul examined the changes, then nodded. "That's right - exactly as I remember it."

"Exactly? That sounds pretty definite." The man laid down his pencil.

"I remember everything this... I see and hear and experience," the Starman explained.

Detective Ramirez laughed as he stood in the doorway. "Figures. A photographer with a photographic memory." He walked over to the table and took the sketch pad from Paul. "I'll have copies made of this and have them distributed to all shifts. Of course, I don't have to tell you we'll still be needing you to make a positive I.D. when we pick this guy up, so I hope you weren't planning on leaving town."  
  
---  
  
Back in their room at the boarding house, Scott started emptying all the dresser drawers and stuffing their possessions into the knapsacks.

Startled, Paul closed the bag his son was filling. "Scott, what are you doing? Ramirez said we have to stay until after I've wade a positive I.D."

"You've got to be kidding!" the upset teen shot back. "The story's going to be all over the papers, maybe even the T.V. What if they mention you? Fox's sure to hear about this. Besides, Mom's trail'll get cold." he finished plaintively.

Paul shook his head. "But I have to stay. I have an obligation to the woman who was shot. Right now, I'm the only one who can help find her attacker. Besides, how long can it take? The police have already started the search."

Scott exploded. 'What about your obligation to us? To Mom and me? Seeing the pain and sadness in his father's eyes he stopped, then threw his knapsack onto the chair across the room. "Okay, okay, we're staying."  
  
---  
  
Three agonizingly long days later there still had been no progress in either the investigation or the injured woman's condition.

Scott's mounting frustration kept him slouched on the couch in front of the television, bed still unmade and dirty dishes still piled in the kitchenette’s sink when his father came in from a walk. He barely looked up. "I knew this waiting would be a waste of time. Even if they catch the guy, he'll probably walk. You got out when they were holding you for the Putman case."

"They released me by mistake. And I was innocent." Paul rested his hand on his son's shoulder. "I've been thinking. You're right - we can't stay here much longer. Detective Ramirez called this morning. They're widening the search, putting out statewide bulletins. And we do have to follow that lead to Jenny before it gets cold. As soon as we clean up this mess and have some lunch, we're going to the hospital. I have a plan."  
  
---  
  
Father and son, packed bags at their feet, stood at the top of the stairwell, door to the critical care unit ajar. Only a few nurses keeping check on their patients' monitors were visible, the rest busy elsewhere with other responsibilities.

"Now you wait here for me, no matter what happens," Paul advised.

"No problem, Dad." was Scott's reply. "I've got this thing about hospitals and oxygen tents and stuff like that. I'll be right here keeping an eye on our bags and especially on these bus tickets." He was holding onto the tickets his father'd given him for dear life.

Paul took his sphere out of his pocket and began to concentrate on an emergency "crash" cart stored across from the nurse’s station. Slowly, the cart began to move, picking up speed as it raced toward the further end of the corridor. It hit the wall with a resounding crash, medical supplies flying all over the floor. The staff's attention was drawn to the noise and away from the stairwell door and the man slipping through it to the room two doors down.

Paul entered the quiet room and gazed sadly at the woman lying amidst all tubes and life-sustaining machines. The doctors said she was in a coma; she might recover, she might not. The Starman concentrated again on his sphere. The blue glow bathed the woman in its soft light. Before the machines could register the changes, Paul could feel the healing begin.

Minutes after he'd entered the room, Paul slipped out and back to the stairwell, again unseen by the staff whose attention was still on the crash cart.

Scott questioned his father as they made their way outside. “That happened, what went wrong? I could see the monitor for the cashier, and nothing changed. I thought you were going to heal her so she could identify the gunman, and the police wouldn't need you."

Paul put his arm around his son as they stopped on a landing. "Don't worry, she's going to be fine. I couldn't heal her completely while I was in there, just speed up the natural process." Paul grinned. "Besides, we can't have too many strange things happening when we're around, can we? Come on, we've got a bus to catch."

The rental car roared past the outward-bound bus. The door flew open as the car screeched to a halt in front of the police station. Leaving the door open in his haste, Fox raced inside, anxious to find the detective who would lead him to the alien. This time, nothing was going to get in his way.

THE END


End file.
